Just After Sunset
by brennan8319
Summary: AU One shot. Halloween prompt: Alex and Piper in a haunted house.


**Shout out to Silk215, who sent me this prompt. A huge fan of things that go bump in the night, I was reeling with ideas of what to do with a Vauseman dedication to Halloween and this is what I came up with:**

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"It says here that she even had her own torture chamber where she held the slaves captive," Diane whispered tersely.

Alex's reaction went nothing beyond a roll of the eyes, the umpteenth one of its kind since meeting up with her mother at the hotel earlier that evening. Diane was always on a mission to make up for lost time because Alex's work kept her away for most of the year. Previous visits had included a week-long advanced meditation class so that they could learn the art of levitation (their asses never left the ground but Diane insisted that it was an invaluable bonding experience for them) and a mother-daughter memory quilt fashioned (by hand!) out of sentimental items like pieces of clothing and old photographs transferred onto squares of fabric (boring, draining, painful and infuriating to someone who'd never even touched a needle and cotton before).

New Orleans was supposed to be a safe bet. Rich culture, historical sites, an unparalleled music scene, amazing food… How could it go wrong? Alex flashed back to her mother excitedly waving the haunted house tour brochure in her face back at the hotel and groaned inwardly. She should've been prepared for it. Of course Diane would want to do the one thing in the city that didn't interest Alex in the least. But these visits meant so much to the woman and if Alex were honest, she'd gladly spend the time trying to float, sewing quilts and chasing ghosts if it made her happy. It didn't make it any easier though, and it didn't make her stop wishing they could just do normal things like normal people.

"Keep up, slowpoke." Her mother's voice reached her from halfway across the room and Alex noticed she'd fallen behind the tour group.

She'd fallen behind. Fall behind... Alex's brain lit up. "I'll catch up; you go ahead."

"But you're going to miss all the good stuff," Diane persisted. "The gentleman explains the history of everything so beautifully."

Alex fought off another threatening eye-roll. The gentleman her mother referred to was their tour guide – an annoying little man with dark, curly hair and an annoying little voice. He was way too excited about everything for Alex's liking and breaking away from his constant yammering sounded pretty great to her right then.

"I can read, Mom." She waved her own copy of the tour guide at her mother.

"But it's getting dark. And creepy."

"Flashlight," Alex replied and held up the miniature flashlight that each member of the group had been issued.

"Fine, but don't come running to me when Madame LaLaurie starts after you." Diane spoke with an exaggerated ominous tone, even adding a dramatic whooooo at the end.

Alex shook her head and watched her mother catch up with the group just as they passed through an ornate archway, leading them further into the depths of the dark house, spots of concentrated light flickering every which way as they went. These people probably made a killing feeding off gullible visitors hoping to spot a real live ghost. Never mind that there was nothing real or live about them, she thought.

And then she was alone. And even though she didn't believe in any of what was being sold, the place was more than a little (for lack of a better word) creepy. Now that she was alone in the vast entrance area of the LaLaurie Mansion, Alex felt incredibly small and entirely cut off from the rational world outside. But that was what they wanted, she thought. The whole thing was manufactured to up the scare factor. To keep the paying customers streaming in. Well, she wasn't going to fall for any of it. Let them go on their ghost hunt; she was going to find the proof that the eeriness was of the bought variety.

Alex looked around and found that without the collective flashlights of the tour group, the darkness around her had taken on a rolling blackness that shifted around her every time she moved. That bit was her imagination obviously. The darkness didn't really move. The thickness of it though… It was just after sunset and the night was nowhere near the depth required to explain the congealed shadows inside the house. But again, that could easily be achieved by being smart about keeping any light and sound from getting in. Her hand gripped the flashlight a little tighter, the feel of it in her hand – so small and nothing – suddenly seemed much too feeble for what she needed from it. She thumbed it over in her palm, feeling for the switch that would soothe the unsettling feeling that was rising in her chest. Her eyes constantly roved the space around her, trying to make sense of the dense shapes (making sure nothing moved) and then her thumb finally brushed the thing it was looking for and Alex urgently flicked it. The expectation of having the sudden comfort of some form of light delayed the realization that the flick of the switch hadn't worked, but when it came, she cursed into the darkness.

"Shit." It wasn't even a whisper, more like the husk of a whisper. She brought the flashlight up close to her face, as if staring at the dead bulb would make it magically begin to glow.

"Try smacking it against your leg."

Alex was sure her feet left the ground when she jumped at the voice that didn't come from her mouth. She spun round and was blinded by a rush of light aimed directly at her face.

"Do you mind?" Alex squinted into the light, her open hand raised as a shield in front of her.

"Oh, sorry," the disembodied voice said and a second later Alex saw the inside of her lids grow considerably darker, telling her it was safe to open her eyes.

The inky blackness had lost some of its menace thanks to the little circle of light that created a dim gloom around them and for some reason, Alex felt herself sag a little with relief. This whole thing was stupid and crazy but it was really getting into her head and that little fact agitated her. How can you be afraid of something that isn't real?

"You get a kick out of sneaking up on people?" She decided to take it out on the flashlight-wielding lonewalker.

"You get a kick out of wandering through haunted houses all by yourself?"

The snark in her voice caught Alex's attention and she focused on the person in front of her for the first time and even in the pathetic lighting, the sight of her evoked a telling pinch in Alex's middle. She was tall, with long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders in soft curls and the smile she was wearing made Alex feel like she had to look away quickly or she never would. Was she on the same bus coming out there? Surely she would've noticed if that was the case. Yes, her face was one that Alex definitely would've noticed.

"It looks like that's what you're doing – wondering around alone," she said, her tone considerably less agitated, her eyes still not daring to make direct contact with the vision in front of her.

"The guide doesn't mention it but there are all these secret passages on every floor. I printed my own map from this website I found. Wanna see?"

A piece of paper was shoved in front of her face before Alex could articulate any kind of response. Her eyes struggled to focus on it because of the dark, but focus was also hard in coming because of the woman who was now standing right next to her. Alex felt the warmth of her proximity snake up her bare arm, striking a bold contrast to the stark, cold room they were in. And she smelled nice. Like honey and almonds. Alex stepped to the side to increase the distance between them and also to regain some self control needed to pull the emergency brake on her runaway thoughts.

"One of them is supposed to lead to LaLaurie's sex chamber. I broke away from the group to check it out but I took the wrong one and somehow ended up back here."

"It's a torture chamber."

"No, that's in the attic and not that much of a secret. Apparently there's a hidden chamber with all these antique toys and stuff. Can you imagine? Cast iron dildos?" Laughter bubbled out of her then, and it sounded like it was coming straight from the depths of her belly. Alex liked the sound of it and joined in. "What do you say, you want to join me on my quest to find an ancient sex vault?"

She had a working flashlight and a map. It would be a sensible choice to stick with her, whatever fetishes she might have about old-timey sexploits. "Sure, okay," Alex said, knowing full well that her agreement was not entirely of a sensible nature.

The carpet under their feet was thick and soft but still the floorboards creaked in response to every other step they took, the sound of it rising into the empty silence before being swallowed by it. The miniature flashlight created a miniature light, forcing Alex and her new tour buddy to move slowly and close together as they made their way up a sprawling staircase that led to the second floor. Having her sense of sight compromised, Alex slipped into a state of hyper-alertness, becoming aware of everything happening around them in sounds, tastes, smells and feels. Feels… She jumped at the sudden contact she felt when the blonde grabbed hold of her hand.

"What was that?" she gasped and instantly froze, her grip on Alex causing the brunette to do the same.

"It's nothing, it's just the wind."

The blonde cocked her head to the side to better train her ears and Alex found that she too was listening really hard, partly to prove herself right about it being the wind but also partly to hear past her heartbeat hammering in her head. The wind was howling through the cracks in the outer walls (strange, Alex hadn't noticed even a breeze when getting off the bus) and it rattled the house, turning it into a thing that was alive. An alive thing that breathes and sees and waits…

"Statistics show that when someone says it's the wind, nine times out of ten, it really isn't."

"Statistics based in reality or the fictional world of scary movies?"

"A cynic on a haunted house tour… interesting."

"Are we just going to stand here discussing irrational fear or are we going to find some dildos?"

The question worked well to dispel the rising tension (fear) and the two started back up the staircase. Alex decided to focus on the small spot of light that danced on the floor in front of them because whenever she looked up, the darkness insisted on playing unseemly games with her eyes (and her logic). They neared the top of the stairs and the light started flickering. Her tour buddy drew a sharp intake of breath that caused Alex to jump.

"Can you please quit doing that?"

The light continued its dying swansong, messing with her eyes as they had to adjust to sudden dark, then light, then dark again. Still Alex pushed forward, determined to make it onto the second floor landing, her steps forcing a now closely huddled blonde to do the same. The light died for what seemed a final time just as they reached the top of the stairs and Alex heard a small whimper float into the deathly dark and quiet. Whether it came from her or the woman at her side she couldn't tell but it was something she wasn't willing to dwell on.

"Try smacking it against your leg," she echoed the blonde's earlier advice back at her as they stood frozen to the spot at the top of the stairs. The air up there felt just as cold and empty and the darkness had that same shifting quality. It made the hair on her neck stand on end.

"It's not working."

"Try harder."

"I am – I'm doing it as hard as I –"

"Clearly you're not."

"Should I gouge a flashlight sized hole in my leg? Would you be happy then? It's not working. It's dead. It's oh my god!"

The terrified scream coincided with a rush of light that suddenly flooded them and the combined assault on her eyes and ears made Alex jump again, her heart protesting against the confines of her chest. She's on top of me, was the first coherent thought she managed and it was true too. The blonde had jumped Alex in fright and her timid frame now clung to her, every muscle trembling, breath panting short and quick right next to Alex's ear. And her own arms were wrapped around the blonde's waist, holding on to steady herself as much to comfort the terrified woman. Alex slowed her breathing and swallowed her heart back down before lifting her shaking hands to the shaking arms around her neck. She stroked them softly and felt the tension there start to roll away as they slackened. Then it was easy to take them and pull the woman away.

"I swear to god, if you keep this up I'll drop dead from a heart attack before the night's over."

"Who puts a huge ass mirror at the top of a staircase? I wasn't expecting it, okay. I thought it was…"

"A ghost?" Alex laughed and it came easily enough considering that a second ago she'd pretty much thought the same thing. Thankfully her reaction was muted by the drama from the other woman and she could go on with her dignity in tact.

"Haha very funny. You won't admit it but I know you were scared too. Your heart was pounding…" and then her voice trailed away. The statement was testament to just how close she'd been to Alex – close enough to feel her heartbeat. And even in the dim gloom, in front of a flamboyant mirror at the top of the stairs in a haunted house… the brunette noticed a deep flush rising to the woman's cheeks.

"It's a great piece though," Alex said to relieve themselves of the awkward moment and turned to study the gorgeously framed mirror.

"We should move on. I don't like standing in front of mirrors in the dark."

"Seriously? That's an urban legend."

"I'll take my chances on the safe side of soul-sucking demons thankyouverymuch."

"Okay," Alex chuckled. "Let's go, but I want to see what the plaque says over here. Can you give it some light?"

Her own curiosity got the better of her and the blonde stepped forward, training the flashlight on the small plaque attached to the bottom of the frame. She strained her eyes to read the inscription, concentrating hard enough to not notice Alex shifting behind her, the brunette's reflection becoming dimmed out and markedly eerie in the half light.

"Blooooodyyyyy Maaaaaryyyyyy…" The woman's head shot up at the sound of the moan coming from behind her. "Blooooodyyyyy Maaaaryyyyy…"

"Stop! Are you crazy?!" The blonde whirled round to face her and planted a series of smacks to Alex's arm with the mini flashlight. Her eyes were wide with fright and any color that had been in her face earlier was completely gone as she glared at her. Alex burst out laughing. "It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny." She was still laughing.

"I should've left you alone and scared in the dark."

"I wasn't scared."

"Right, whatever you say. Can we just go?"

Without looking at the map or tour outline (it didn't matter where they went just as long as it was away from where they were) the two women moved down the hall to their immediate left. The space was narrow and stretched on forever, the walls on either side scattered with faded portraits in heavy, elaborate frames. Alex consciously kept her gaze averted from the dead eyes in the pictures and could tell that the woman at her side was doing the same.

"I can't believe you buy into all of this crap." Talking helped. It kept her mind from wandering off where it didn't belong. In the darkness. Where the terrible and unspeakable lived.

"The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn't real. I know that, and I also know that if I'm careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle."

"Stephen King. What, you don't have an original explanation for acting like a baby in the dark?"

"How many original thoughts do you have to explain being an ass about it?"

"It just doesn't make sense. I don't get how people can be so easily duped by-"

"Everyone's afraid of something."

"I'm not questioning whether fear is real; I'm questioning the validity of the thing you're afraid of."

"Fear is just a broader perspective of the world. I mean if you think about kids, it's like they see everything and the possibility of everything is real for them. When we grow up, for a lot of people, they lose that openness. Maybe it's something that happens to protect the adult mind from things it can't explain, things that scare them."

"You calling me narrow-minded?"

"People don't like not being able to explain things. And ghosts, the remains of people's energy who once lived… it falls into that category of the unexplainable. Just because you don't believe it, doesn't mean it's not real. People have seen proof."

"Were they on acid at the time?"

Alex chuckled at her own smartassery but it was lost on the woman at her side, who had suddenly stopped walking and was now studying the crumpled piece of paper in her hands, the flashlight casting a shaky glow on the dark lines.

"What is it?" She didn't like the quiet. The quiet made it harder to not be afraid of anything. She looked back and saw that they'd pretty much made it to the end of the hallway.

"We're right under it."

"The sex chamber?"

"No, the attic." The blonde moved the flashlight up and they both craned their necks to follow the light as she ran it along the ceiling. It fell on a big brass handle a few feet in front them. A big brass handle attached to a trap door.

"That's it. That's where she did it."

Alex didn't like the fascination she heard in the blonde woman's voice. It sounded like she was about to be dragged into something she didn't really want to be part of. A sudden shift of light brought Alex's eyes back down and she saw the blonde using the flashlight to scan the walls on either side.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell me if you see a… ah!" She started for the long pole attached to the wall and Alex saw the end of it had a brass hook. She's going to do it. She's going to go up there and she's going to make me go with her.

"Hold this." Alex fumbled with the flashlight that was suddenly thrust into her hands.

"I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe we should get back to the group."

She was wasting her breath. She knew this because the only response she got was the scratching sound of metal on metal as the woman deftly slipped the hook into the brass ring on the trapdoor. I can stay down here. I don't have to go up with her. Alex stole a quick glance over her shoulder and the way the darkness consumed the hallway (she actually could no longer see the landing they came from) decided for her. She wasn't staying down there alone. She jumped for the nth time that night as the wooden ladder crashed to the floor and when she followed the sound, the blonde was grinning back at her.

"You know, for someone afraid of ghosts, you're really going out of your way to find them."

"And for someone who doesn't believe in ghosts, you're looking pretty freaked out." And with that she started up, not waiting for Alex or the flashlight.

Her feet felt like lead but Alex forced her body to follow the one in front of her. Her steps were surprisingly quick as she went up the ladder and Alex realized it was because she was trying to pull her ankles under the metaphorical covers to keep away from the thing in the darkness.

Maybe she did believe… a little…

The feet above her disappeared with a grunt and Alex finally reached the top of the ladder. A slender hand reached out to her and she grabbed hold of it (probably tighter than was necessary but the touch worked wonders to calm her racing heart) and allowed herself to be hoisted into the godforsaken room.

Alex wasn't sure when she'd taken possession of it, but the woman was throwing the meager light from the flashlight around the room as they moved with small, cautious steps, their feet loudly scuffing against the grainy wood beneath them as they went. Unlike the ragged chill in the rest of the house, the air in the attic was musty and thick with centuries' old dust that made Alex's rapid breathing that much harder to execute. Another smell hung heavy around them that she couldn't quite identify. It was dense and smelled like one of those smells that have a taste.

"Oh god." Alex didn't know if it was a moan or a gasp or perhaps both but the blonde's words echoed the ones in her head when the light fell on an array of rusted chains and shackles bolted to one of the walls. She thankfully didn't linger there and moved the light on.

"They say that's where she kept the children." The blonde's voice sounded like it was fetching her from a million miles away as Alex focused on the three wiry cages. "She starved them, beat them, cut them up…"

"Stop." Alex managed to choke out. How could people waste their time being terrified of the boogeyman when what was real was so much more horrific?

The silence around her started closing in and Alex regretted asking the woman to stop talking. At least her voice was keeping the other sounds at bay – the sounds she least wanted to hear. Her breath caught in her throat as the window at the far end of the attic rattled and slammed in its frame. The blonde was close enough to feel her tense up and quickly offered a comforting "It's just the wind" as she slipped her hand into Alex's and squeezed.

She's right. It's the wind and this place is creepy as fuck and we should leave.

"We should leave."

"Okay."

That was easy. Alex half expected her to argue, to want to investigate the atrocious history lesson in more depth. They shuffled on the spot, their bodies close together, as they made to go back the way they came, afraid to move from the path they cut in case they stepped onto something or into something neither of them were ready to come into contact with. A loud bang reverberated through the room and through their bones as the trapdoor fell down with a crash and Alex clung to the woman beside her just as desperately as she was being clung to, becoming all too aware of the terror that had seized them both in that moment. It was a hinged door. A hinge that locked in place when they opened it. There was no reason… no logical reason… why it would slam shut out of nowhere.

"The wind?" The blonde whimpered at her side.

"This place is ancient. I'm sure they haven't replaced anything since it was built and it's probably just a defective hinge or something." Her words were rushed, rambling even, and signaled panic more than rational thinking.

And then the light died out.

Alex's mouth went dry as she felt herself being dragged across the fine line between what's real and what's not. No, not dragged across… dragged onto it. And just left there. On the line where things become blurry. Where things that should be not real suddenly seem very, very real. Her eyes darted around the room, skimming over the shadows that danced along the walls and floor. Why there would be shadows when there was no source of light to create them didn't bother her as much as how the shadows moved, snaked along every surface and consumed it, taking on a new shape every time as it moved.

And as is the case with fear, it turns your brain to sludge. All of your senses become heightened save one – your sense of sight. Because if the fear is of the good kind, the kind with long, cold fingers that grip your heart, the kind that renders your spine to jelly, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention, this kind of fear, it makes you blind. And all you're left with is the rest of your body, groping around in the dark, trying to make sense of the thing that is scaring the bejeezus out of you. So you grope, and you gather the evidence you find and bring it all together to form a picture. But your brain is sludge. So the evidence is not brought together with logic and rationale, but with every terror that lives deep in your subconscious mind. It's the thing that turns the coat hanging on the closet door into a monster, turns the science of contraction and expansion in a cold house to creaking footsteps of a sinister kind…

"Come on," Alex murmured and pulled the trembling form now attached to her to mimic the stilted steps she was taking toward the trapdoor (the trapdoor that had slammed shut on its own even though it was built to not do that). Their feet scraped the dusty floor as they moved and Alex focused hard on the sound because it was the sound that was leading them closer to out of that place.

"What is that?"

Alex opened her mouth to explain but then stopped and listened properly. They were shuffling along. Their feet wouldn't be scraping the floor. And they were both wearing sneakers so wear was the metallic rattling coming from? And the deep, throaty moaning? She looked down at the shaking blonde in her arms and could tell by the look on her face that the voice inside her was as trapped as her own. There was no moan coming from either of them. So if it wasn't her and it wasn't the other woman…?

A silent agreement was simultaneously reached between them and they broke the slow shuffle and bounded to the trapdoor. Alex fell down to her knees and started grappling at the hook on the door. Huge ass brass ring handle on the outside but a small, slippery hook was all they were given to get back out. Go figure. Her fingers ached with the effort she used to get a decent grip on the hook.

"Try smacking it against your leg," she said through gritted teeth to hold back the scream that was rising in her throat.

Her fingers clawed desperately at the tiny cracks between the door and the floor when the hook refused to budge, her frustrated grunts wafting into the air to create a sickening symphony with the panicked slapping sound of the flimsy plastic hitting the blonde's leg and the scraping… and moaning… And then her hands were washed in a sorry excuse for light, probably the last dying breath of the cheap flashlight. But there was something else. And Alex couldn't hold back the scream that was rising in her throat, only it didn't come out as a scream. It was more like a long, strangled groan.

"Oh god," she heard the woman murmur above her. She saw it too.

Several scratches littered the trapdoor. Scratches that looked like they were carved there by fingernails. Desperate fingernails attached to bodies that didn't want to die.

"A little help," Alex muttered under her breath. Fuck this place and her mother's feelings. She was done.

The woman dropped to her knees beside her and while Alex tried to pry the trapdoor free on the sides, she worked the insubstantial hook handle. Their combined efforts seemed to be doing something, as the door was lifting and jigging slightly in its housing.

"On three," the blonde said and they both ceased their actions. "One, two, three!" And they started up again with one huge heave and the door flew up with a backwash of cold air from below that washed over Alex's face. It worked thank god.

"You first."

The woman didn't argue and hurriedly slithered down the hatch, feet first. Alex watched as her body inched down and out of sight as if in slow motion. She could be traveling at the speed of light and it would still be too slow for me, she thought. And then the blonde looked up at her. And then at something to the left behind her. Alex froze at the look of wide-eyed terror on the woman's face.

"Don't look behind you."

"I won't," she said and didn't.

As soon as the last of her head cleared the open space, the portal to safety, Alex lunged for it. To get down by way of the ladder she'd have to turn onto her stomach and that would mean having to look into the abyss she was trying to flee from. Sure she could shut her eyes but Alex knew that she wouldn't be able to keep it that way. It was that thing that made you slow down when you passed the scene of a car accident. That thing that made you turn your head and look even though you didn't want to look. So she made a jump for it. It wasn't that high up. Who was she trying to kid? Even if it was that high up, she'd still have made that jump.

Alex landed with a thud, crouched low and breathing hard. Behind her the blonde was hurriedly sending the ladder back up. She straightened to see the thing fold up on its hinges and spring back up from where it came. The woman worked with sure, swift movements and Alex's eyes followed her in the dark as she grabbed for the pole and slammed the trapdoor shut, really digging in to make sure closed was closed and whatever was up there stayed up there. And then she turned to face her, breathless but wearing a relieved grin that Alex found it surprisingly easy to return.

"Piper?"

They both turned and raised their hands at the same time to shield them from the group of concentrated balls of light that were focused on them.

"What the hell, Piper? We've been looking everywhere for you!" A brown-haired woman broke from the group and walked toward them.

"Your friend told me you went off exploring but the company doesn't encourage people going off on their own," the voice of the tour guide came from behind the bright wash of light. "If you can please just stick with me for the rest of the tour, we're almost finished."

"Alex?" Diane emerged from the dark hallway. "There you are!" She didn't seem half as concerned as the blonde's (Piper, was it?) friend. But that was probably because she was aware of her daughter's take on the whole haunted house thing. That and the fact that she could handle herself. If she had seen me a few seconds ago, Alex thought, not without a little amusement at her own irrational reaction.

"Well, seeing that we're all accounted for again, let's go into the attic shall we?" The tour guide moved forward and took the wooden pole from Piper.

Alex found her eyes easily and another silent agreement passed between them.

"Actually, I'd rather escape this place before the apocalypse. Wanna come?"

Piper's smile was the answer to her question as she moved up to stand beside Alex.

"But… it's the best part," Polly argued. "They say that's where-"

"I know." They said it at the same time and again their eyes fixed on each other.

"You go ahead and we'll meet you outside."

"Are you sure?" This came from Diane but Polly's face asked the same question.

"Yeah, finish the tour and we'll meet you outside. Maybe we could all go for a drink after or something."

"I could use a drink," Piper said.

"Okay, have it your way."

Alex and Piper watched as the group ascended the rickety ladder in a neat line and then turned to make their way back down the hallway. It was still dark but Alex felt strangely unaffected as they moved through it side by side.

"You still don't believe in ghosts?"

Alex chuckled softly. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation for what happened up there. It's easy to manufacture it… rig things with mechanisms that can be controlled with a remote or whatever."

"Of course." But she didn't sound convinced. Alex wasn't either. It was a strange night to say the least and she didn't want to think about that attic any longer than she had to.

"So you like sneaking up on people in the dark, get a kick out of chasing ghosts that don't exist… what else do I need to know about you?"

She could feel Piper's gaze on her face as they reached the second floor landing and made their way down the stairs without a backward glance at the ill-placed mirror that had scared them both shitless just a few minutes ago.

"Who are you?" Her voice was filled with questioning fascination.

"My name's Alex."

"Yeah, I thought that's what…?"

"My mom."

"Right. So what do you do, Alex? Besides make fun of strangers in haunted houses?"

Alex smiled to herself as they pushed through the hulking wooden doors and stepped into the fresh October chill. It was like shrugging off a heavy cloak and she felt worlds lighter as they made their way down the path and into a safer kind of darkness. One lit by a generous moon instead of an unreliable flashlight. One that appeared to be full of the promise of things that were real and alive instead of things that weren't. And maybe New Orleans _was_ going to be different from every other time. And maybe, just maybe the break that had gotten off to a shaky start was well on its way to being the best one yet.


End file.
